The Boss's Son Box Set

o much like pouting. Marj had been out of line but she meant well, her intentions were good. No reason to be a total bitch about it, Britt told herself as she ordered a coffee and a cookie. She might even share her cookie with Marj in the interest of peace. She sat at their usual table and watched the people going by on the sidewalk. She was soothed by the low conversation in the place, by the whoosh and hiss of the coffee machines. Halfway through her latte, Marj showed up with a guy. Correction, with THE Tinder guy.

“I’m Greg. We met...earlier. Your friend explained the whole situation and I was hoping you’d still be willing to meet me.”

“No thanks, Greg. I’m sorry you came here for nothing but I’m not interested in doing Tinder, for hook ups or otherwise,” Britt said, glaring pointedly at Marj for putting her in this situation.

“At least let me buy you a muffin to make up for the mental distress of being Tinder-jacked,” he said with a winning smile.

Greg was cute. Greg seemed easygoing. Britt wanted desperately to stomp out of there and leave her latte steaming on the table, but to do so was to be, in her estimation, horribly rude. Not just to Marj, her best friend, but to Greg who innocently met up with her and didn’t deserve the snub. She had, herself, been so recently jilted at Tamarind, that she quailed from dumping on another unsuspecting person who had done nothing wrong.

“Marj, I need to speak with you. Greg, please have a seat. I’m afraid this isn’t going to go the way you’d hoped,” Britt said evenly.

She led Marj over by the door, out of his earshot.

“Why the fuck would you do this? It’s arrogant of you to think that I can’t handle my own personal life and we’ve gone past the point of it being in good fun. Now you’re being controlling and this poor guy is going to get rejected because YOU think you can push me around.”

“I’m not pushing you around. You picked him out on Tinder. You made a date with him, not me.”

“I made a date for you. I thought I made a date for you. I do not want to be on Tinder. I do not want to have coffee with Greg and I sure as hell don’t want to talk to you right now. So take your Tinder boy, buy him some coffee and leave me alone. This is really ridiculous of you and I can’t believe you’re blaming me!”

“Sometimes, Britt, you get yourself into situations and you look for somebody whose fault it could be. You’re not helpless. You never have been. In fact, that’s your whole problem. You think things happen TO you. You got dumped, got picked up, got laid. Now you selected a guy, messaged with him, and you’re refusing to even talk to him, because it might mean you have to take ownership of your own actions.”

“Marj,” Britt said crossly. “This is about you bringing him someplace to force me to meet him. Now you brought him, take him back.”

Greg tapped her on the shoulder.

“I can take myself out of here. I don’t want to cause trouble. You ladies have a good evening,” he said.

“No, wait. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at her. You don’t have to go.” Britt sighed, defeated. He’d been too nice about it. She couldn’t be mean back.

Marj smiled, triumphant, and sashayed out the door of the coffee shop under Britt’s undisguised glare.

At the table, she sat with pursed lips watching Greg add packets of sugar to his coffee.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I caused any problems with you and your friend,” he said.

“None of this is your fault. You’re just in the crossfire. I’m the one who should apologize. I was playing on Marj’s phone, thinking it was her Tinder profile. So I did pick you out, I just picked you out for her, not myself.”

“Yeah she told me. That you picked me for her and she wanted me for you. It’s not all that flattering when you come to think of it, that you both are trying to unload me. I don’t really drink coffee, in fact. So you’re free to go.” He said affably.

“I think that would be impolite considering the fact that you got dragged into a power struggle between two women.”

“That is, like, every man’s fantasy if it were true,” he joked.

“Well, if we were naked in a pit of Jell-o or something, I’d believe it. Us bitching at each other in a coffee shop not so much catnip for thrill seekers, I’m guessing.”

“I was trying to put a better spin on it, Britt,” he said. “I haven’t had much luck on Tinder.”

“Not getting enough right-swipes?”

“I get my share of swipes. I just can’t seem to get swiped by anyone I like.”

“Hang in there.”

“Do you really think Tinder works?”

“I have no idea. I just thought it was the appropriate time to say something encouraging.”

“I want someone to date, go places with. Nothing serious but just a way not to be lonely all the time. I work. I go to bars. I don’t meet anyone over the age of like 22 and they’re not exactly interested in me.”